“Heartbeat,” I say.
The kiosk plays us the rapid swishing sound of Jocie’s heartbeat, and Martha gasps.
“Jocie!” Martha yells, and leaps away from the machine.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she says.
I don’t know if she’s speaking to me or to Jocie.
“It’s okay,” I say. “She’s fine. Let’s hear it again.”
We stand for several minutes listening to the swishing sound, as I hold Martha from behind. Martha starts to cry.
“It’s so unfair!” Martha says. “We can’t let her be born, just to die from the plague.”
She turns to face me.
For the first time I can remember, I’m the one who releases a stare by looking away. I can’t look her in the eyes. If I really can look into a person’s eyes and see a glimpse of their soul, then I’d have to watch this beautiful soul being tortured, and I can’t bear the thought of it.
And that’s why you have to do it. Look into her eyes, Cephas.
When I look up again, I see everything I’d feared and knew I couldn’t bear. I don’t know if it’s Satan, or the Lord, or my own human stupidity that has taught me to keep these secrets, but I can’t allow her to remain in anguish.
“I’ve done something,” I say. “Something that cost me dearly and I’m afraid there’s even more payment to come from it. The Corps didn’t find us the day Bethany House was destroyed. We stole the components of the time machine in Jerusalem and built a tiny version. The power went out because I sent the vaccine sample back in time twelve years. Four has been vaccinating members ever since. We’ve both been vaccinated, so Jocie has the gene too.”
“That’s amazing! We need to tell everyone.”
“No, we can’t. Nobody can know. If word gets out, then Henry will know that all the children born off grid are still alive. Besides, Austin and helpers like Bill and Wendy are still vaccinating people. We need to buy them time. We need to distract Henry so they can continue their work - unnoticed - for as long as possible. As long as I keep appearing in public, maybe Henry will focus on me.”
Her eyes tell me that she knows where this is leading.
“My dream - you DO plan to sacrifice yourself. That’s how you plan to distract Henry. No, Cephas. You can’t. He’ll kill you.”
All of the anguish returns to her face.
I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, Lord, but I don’t want to do this. I’d sacrifice myself without hesitation; but why are You asking me to hurt Martha and our baby too? I’ve been making choices since this new life of walking with You began, Lord, and this time I’m going to choose disobedience. You cut David some slack when he disobeyed; so You can cut me some too. I’ll take the punishment, if it means sparing Martha this burden.
“But you’re right, Martha, that I even I don’t know the future. Maybe there’s another way,” I say, and bask in the relieved smile I receive.
*****
We have dinner with Hal, Chelsea, and a few couples from their newly-formed prayer group. It turns out that Hal works at the local tube station in charge of cargo cars, and has been turning a blind eye for years as members of Four have used the cars to travel unseen. He offers to send us wherever we want to go.
“So where’re we going next, Cuz?” Cindi asks me, as we enjoy dessert - courtesy of Chelsea.
I want Martha and Cindi in Ogallala, Nebraska, where they grew up. Four has a safe house nearby, called Mount Carmel, which I find funny in such a flat state. They should be safe and comfortable in their parents’ homes as Jocie grows larger and larger inside Martha’s womb.
“I can get you anywhere in North or South America,” Hal says.
“I want Martha and Cindi to go to Ogallala, Nebraska, but I --”
“We go where you go,” Martha says.
Two months ago, she might have said: “I go where you go;” but now that she’s definitely sporting a small bump on her belly, she sees the wisdom in having Cindi as her backup.
“There’s no getting around it, Cuz,” Cindi says. “We have you outnumbered.”
Just then, the screen Chelsea was watching as she prepared dinner lights up with an old image of Michael baptizing in McIntosh Lake, and we stop the conversation to watch for what we know is coming. The reporter bemoans the fact that Federal officials can’t deliver vaccine to plague victims in the “quarantined” town of McIntosh due to continued resistance from militant Christians.
We had already received an update from a local member of Four who received Zip’s latest message and plea for help. When Henry found out that the residents were drinking the lake water, drones dropped several metric tons of powdered toxin into the lake. Since then, the residents have relied solely on rainwater and the Lord has not disappointed them. Not long after the drones appeared over the lake, the skies opened and it’s been raining ever since.
Despite the rain, Zip reported water sources are slowly dwindling. The choice faced by residents is to maintain their Christian beliefs and slowly die of thirst, or take the vaccine and have their DNA rewritten to mark them and their children forever. So far, the vast majority have chosen to hold firm to their convictions.
What a hypocrite I am. I asked the staff of Bethany to answer God’s call - no matter what is asked of them; but now I’m the one who’s decided to choose a different path from the one God set before me.
“We’re looking for a piece to a puzzle,” I say to Hal. “Can you get us on a cargo tube to Colorado Springs?”
I hang my head over the decision to disobey God’s plan.
Maybe something good can come from my disobedience. If I lead Henry on a chase, maybe it’ll distract him from his plans to take the toxin airborne.
*****
A tube car built for cargo isn’t luxurious, and has much more vibration than a passenger car, but it travels just as quickly. There’s one folding seat bolted to the wall that I assume is installed just in case there’s cargo that needs to be handled by a courier. Cindi and I both insist that Martha take the seat, even though she’s hardly showing that she’s pregnant. She’s already sick of us treating her like she’s fragile, but takes the seat just the same, while Cindi and I sit on the floor.
“So, what’s the new plan? Why are we heading for The Springs?” Martha asks.
“The last page of Dad’s notebook is missing and the Corps wants it. Jennifer didn’t give me those scans to protect the family legacy, she gave them to me so I’d solve the puzzle of the missing page for them - and lead them to it.”
“What do you think was on the last page?” Cindi asks.
“I already know what’s on the last page. It’s critical information about Mom and Dad’s work on the vaccine twelve years ago.”
“So there’s still a chance we can make the vaccine ourselves?”
I give her a knowing smile, and Martha has to look out the window to avoid giving away that she knows more than she’s saying.
“And you think the page is in Colorado Springs?” Martha asks.
“No, but a clue to finding it might be. Aunt Jennifer threw away most of my parents’ things when I was eight, but she never cleaned their attic. I moved an old trunk of theirs to Colorado Springs. Actually, I rescued a whole pile of their things; and Jennifer doesn’t know I have them, because I stored it all in the basement of Mrs. Pierce’s house in Illinois. I suspect we’ll be going there as well.”
“So what’s the plan?” Cindi asks.
“The only plan I have now is to break into my own house and get out as quickly as possible. Is there a Four safe house we can use while we’re there?”
Cindi laughs.
“It’s just two blocks from your house. It was very convenient for watching you.”
“How long has it been a safe house?”
“Three years, give or take,” Cindi replies.
“It was established about the time I moved to Colorado Springs. Is that a coincidence?”
This time it’s Cindi and Martha who just smile.
*****
The Colorado Springs safe house, which is named Mount Sinai House, is located next to the greenway along Monument Creek, which is where its two escape tunnels come out. There are just two full-time staff at Mount Sinai, one of which is my old student, Hope Dubois, who was chased by The Corps when she asked a question in class that was deemed to be “too Christian.” She blushes when Martha tells her all about our wedding in Galilee, including our wedding night.
We decide to go on our raid just after dusk, rather than waiting until midnight. Hope tells us that the house was sealed by Federal agents not long after my testimony speech in Washington D.C. As far as she knows, nobody has entered since then.
When we arrive, I see that a new security system has been added. Even if my old system was in place, I no longer own a com keyed to my voice and access codes anyway; so we decide to go the “old-fashioned way” and kick in the backdoor. There are hedges which block the neighbor’s view of the backyard; but I doubt they would do anything anyway if they heard the noise of us breaking in anyway. Although the house has modern locking systems, crime is unheard of; so I left the original wooden door and frame. One good kick and the ancient frame splinters around the modern locks.
No audible alarms go off, so we enter quickly, closing the door behind us as best we can. It’s like I’ve just been away on a long vacation. The familiar smells hit me first, followed by seeing that everything is exactly where I left it. Since the last time I was in this house, I’ve traveled through time twice, gotten married, fathered a child, and become the worldwide leader of a spiritual revival. Still, it feels good to be home.
We leave Cindi hidden outside to watch for anyone approaching and to stay in contact with Hope, who is monitoring police channels. Martha and I quickly make our way through the house and up to the attic without turning on any lights.
“The trunk is in the far corner,” I say, and make my way towards it. The top has a layer of dust, indicating that it hasn’t been opened in years.
Good. If Henry searched the house, at least he didn’t search this trunk.
The trunk is divided into two sections. One side contains objects that I would sneak into Mrs. Pierce’s basement and look at when I was twelve. There are keepsakes that Mom and Dad brought back from their world travels before I was born; there are things that belonged to my grandparents; and there are even a few of my baby things. I would handle them all and imagine my parents holding them, or make up stories about where they were and what they were doing when they acquired them.
The other half of the trunk contains things I largely ignored. Most of it is clothing; but on the very bottom is a data storage device and a manila file folder. It never occurred to me when I was young that keeping paper records might mean that Mom and Dad were Christians, but as I look at the folder now, I see Dad wrote 3:16 on the cover. The folder has just a few papers in it, and I’m excited to see they’re torn from Dad’s notebook; but my spirits fall when I see they have nothing to do with the vaccine project. The last page is blank; so I fold it and put it into my pocket.
We take the folder and I stuff the data device in my pocket as we retreat from the attic. As we hit the first floor landing, we’re blinded by the lights coming on and the video screen springing to life.
Right on schedule.
“Hello, Cephas!” Aunt Jennifer says. “It’s nice to see you. And is that the girl you’re calling ‘wife’? Martha is it? You may call me Aunt Jennifer, my dear.”
“Hello, Jennifer,” I say.
“What are you doing in my house in Colorado Springs?” she asks.
I assume I get a surprised look on my face, because she continues.
“The government made me the legal owner of your house - and everything in it - when you disappeared. So, please put my property down and I’ll send someone along to collect it.”
I hold up the folder.
“The page that you and I are both looking for isn’t here. This is a Bible study. Since you can use it more than I, come along and collect it whenever you like.”
I place the file folder onto a table.
Her eyes narrow.
“Sadly, I believe you’re telling me the truth,” she says. “If I’d thought that anything belonging to my fool of a brother was in your house, I’d have ransacked it ages ago. Henry thinks the missing page contains vaccine information; but if he’s right, why would it matter so much to you? You’re obviously out of time to create a vaccine. You’ve always been so good at puzzles, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing there and I’ll try to persuade Henry not to go airborne with the toxin.”
I start to laugh. It feels contrived to me, but it has the desired effect of unsettling Aunt Jennifer.
“The only puzzle piece I’ll give you is this: You were worried about family legacy? That page is our family legacy. It will be remembered for a very long time.”
“So where do you plan to look next?” Jennifer asks. “I’ve already searched the house in Illinois, and Henry had a large team investigate everywhere your parents traveled the hours before they died. That reminds me: maybe you should ask your friend Garai if he has the page. Apparently he was with your parents shortly before they died, but he opted to take a different tube that night.”
How does she know about Garai?
Now it’s my eyes that narrow.
“Sadly, I believe you’re telling me the truth too, Jennifer.”
I take the data device from my pocket.
“Maybe this will help me along the way?” I ask.
A signal in my com tells me we’ll soon have company. Jennifer was stalling me as The Corps closed in.
“See you soon, Aunt Jennifer!” I say, as we run.
“Hope says there are drones in the air and kill teams on the way,” Cindi says, as we join her.
“How did you escape the last time you ran from my house?” I ask Martha.
“I didn’t. I knew I couldn’t get outside the search perimeter; so I used the access you gave me to open the outside door, and then hid in your basement.”
“Like the men who were robbing the Romans,” I say.
“The drones have us on heat sensors,” Cindi says.
“Head for campus. We need to get lost in a crowd,” Martha replies.
Somehow we stay ahead of The Corps agents for the five blocks to the campus business district. There’s normally a good crowd, but this one is bigger than usual.
“Hope hacked the ‘Get it on’ Club and announced a street party, with free drugs and robotic prostitutes,” Cindi says. “She even hacked the loudspeakers and is controlling the music.”
The young crowd is swaying and grinding to the music. Many of them are already removing their clothes.
“That should be enough heat to fool the sensors,” Martha says, as we wade into the crowd.
“Cephas!”
A student, who looks like he can barely stand, calls out my name.
“Hey everybody! Cephas is here.”
“Cephas! Cephas!” they begin to chant.
The crowd converges on us, making it difficult to stay together. I lock arms with Martha and she locks arms with Cindi. Some of the stoned students see what we’ve done and think it’s some sort of a new “Christian game.” The next thing we know, I’m leading a chain that’s twenty people long and there are other chains forming, making it that much tougher to move through the crowd. With both of her arms held, Cindi is groped and prodded by a number of young men. I see one of them heading for Martha and I ball my available fist to defend my wife.
“Let it go,” Martha yells at me. “We’ll blend better.”
“We’re not blending at all!” Cindi replies. “The drones still have us because we’re the only ones not wearing identifiable coms. We’re in a crowd, but electronically we’re sticking out like sore thumbs.”
“In that case…”
I turn and land a kick square to the gut of the guy who groped Martha.
“New game!”
I pluck out the coms of the two guys nearest to me. Martha and Cindi get where I’m going, break free, and start pulling the com out of every ear they can see. I even yank on the com of one girl - before I notice it’s attached to her ear by com locks. The new game catches hold quickly and soon coms are flying everywhere. We have to remove our own hacked coms before they get plucked out too, cutting off updates from Hope.
By the time we make it to the edge of the crowd, the game has been thrown into reverse as the students search the ground, looking for their lost coms. Most were practically born with a com in each ear and they don’t know how to live without them. When The Corps agents arrive, looking for us, the kids assume it’s to break up the party and scatter in all directions. We run along with the group that’s heading in the direction of the safe house.
“They’ve lost us,” Cindi announces when her com is back in.
“They’re looking for a group of three,” I say. “We need to break up.”
Cindi crosses the street and parallels our course about fifty meters back.
“Why did you show Jennifer that you had found an old storage device your Dad left in the trunk?” Martha asks. “Why let her and Henry know we may have more information?”
“To keep the chase going,” I reply. “The longer we can distract Henry, the longer we can delay an airborne release of the toxin.”
“This will only distract him so long,” Martha says.
“I know.”
The puzzle pieces indicated that God’s plan included a larger distraction for Henry. Much larger. I’m not sure which hurts me more, knowing that I’m not following God’s plan anymore - or knowing that I’ll eventually return to it.